


a sigh inside the dark

by sprx77



Category: Naruto
Genre: Afterglow, Alternate Ending, As happy as Sasuke can be anyway, Cigarettes, Happy, Happy Despite Canon Trauma, M/M, Mutual Pining, Naruto Rare Pair Bingo 2019, Pining, Polyamory, Shotgunning, Sparring, Touch-Starved, Touch-starved Uchiha Sasuke, sparring leads to sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 20:07:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19069756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sprx77/pseuds/sprx77
Summary: Shikamaru, taking a drag of the cigarette before passing it: You know he's polyamorous, right.Sasuke, immediately coughing on smoke: WHAT





	a sigh inside the dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fall_into_life](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fall_into_life/gifts).



> We were talking about this on discord and Fall typed the summary line and I about died wheezing because YES. So succinct, so perfect, such an unbeatable culmination of what we were talking about. I'm in absolute awe me lads.

They settle into an easy routine, after the initial kinks are ironed out; Sasuke and Shikamaru will beat the living shit out of each other, get all the bitterness out of their systems, the rage at the unfairness of life, and then they collapse onto the grass.

If he’s surprised Shikamaru can do this, can channel fury into violence and keep going until blood and bruises cover them, until the thrilling relief of action blurs into aching muscles and sweat, burns away the helplessness—well.

Shikamaru’s chest rises (and falls) like bellows next to him, and he’s not surprised Sasuke has to claw the emotions out of himself with hours of exertion.

The ruffle of a foil package, the subtle smell of herbs. Sasuke lifts a hand without really thinking, without the breath to speak, and fire licks along his fingers.

Shikamaru takes a drag of the cigarette before passing it.

“You know he’s polyamorous, right?”

“ _What!_?” Sasuke coughs on smoke.

Stupid to ask who he’s talking about, stupid to pretend there’re people who _can’t_ see the great planetary gravity between them; stupid to choke like a fifteen year old on cigarette smoke, but his hand goes to his throat anyway. His biceps protest.

Shikamaru rescues the fag with deft fingers, bringing it up to his lips with fluttering lashes and a relieved inhale. Sasuke kind of wonders if he can absorb some of his chill by nearness, swallows to assuage his burning throat.

He lets the quiet counter his racing pulse, the frantic overdrive of his emotions, chief among them annoyance.

“The whole point of this is to be too tired to think,” He complains, voice still rough.

Shikamaru rolls his head just slightly, enough to pin Sasuke with a devastating, unamused look. The twitch of his lips ruins it.

“Too tired to feel, maybe. ‘ve never managed to turn off the _thinking_.”

Sasuke steals the cigarette.

This time, he’s careful to breathe.

“Explain the thing.” He watches the smoke curl into the air in front of his nose. The nicotine rushes through him, an artificial calm. Better than rolling into Shikamaru’s space and trying to live in his skin. Probably.

“Not much to explain. Anyone with half a brain could see it.” His arm moves lazy, slow, across Sasuke’s chest. Too familiar, too lazy. His elbow slides across Sasuke’s sternum as he covers Sasuke’s hand with his own, long fingers sliding inbetween his.

Shikamaru steals the cigarette and Sasuke’s numb hands don’t stop him.

The eye contact doesn’t stop, even when Shikamaru’s lips close around the shaft and the end burns bright. He blinks, soft and slow, and Sasuke’s heart starts racing again.

“He was with me and Sai, for a while. Probably will be, again.” Dark eyes see right down to the core of him. “You know. When things get sorted.”

The gaze makes it clear that ‘things’ are him and Sasuke would love to protest that there’s nothing to _sort_ , except—his brain keeps getting caught on the other part.

‘With me and Sai’ that raspy voice had said, casual as anything, as though it doesn’t make Sasuke’s heart hurt like a bruise to see it, throbbing painfully. It’s stupid easy to imagine, sunspun gold dipping to pale skin and ink hair, dark eyes, red lips bending to kiss, strong limbs moving in the dark.

Except it wasn’t some one time tryst, pretty arms and tangled legs in white sheets against the shadows. _Polyamorous_ , Shikamaru said, and he thinks of the easy love Naruto gives to everyone like air.

He thinks of the sunflowers Ino gives to Sai, set up in his and Shikamaru’s kitchen, and thinks of Naruto sitting on that table and laughing while they cook, and Sai draws, of _go_ matches and lingering touches.

Sasuke has been touch starved for as long as he can remember, the feel of Shiakmaru’s knuckles under his fingertips even now like a punch to the face. He takes a drag of the pilfered cigarette.

It’s short, now.

He thinks of rolling over and breathing smoke into Shikamaru’s mouth, of long fingers at the small of his back. Hope is smoke curling in his lungs, insubstantial yet choking. It burns.

“Yeah,” He manages. “But with me?”

Shikamaru levels him a tired look. One of his eyebrows raises.

“Really?” He asks, and defensiveness tightens Sasuke’s relaxed shoulders. The pain from his shoulder blades is no joke, abused muscle protesting.

As though it was that easy. As though it was that simple.

“I’ve never… Where would I even start?”

Shikamaru huffs a laugh.

As though the magnitude of what they’re discussing is even _possible_ , like they’re not talking about gravity and shit, things beyond mortal power.

“You know, when he falls off that pedestal you’ve got him on, he’s gonna be pissed.”

“He can’t.” Sasuke knows all of his flaws, knows them _intimately_. He feels like every inch of Naruto is etched into his bones.

He doesn’t get to have the harmless good of him, as well. The parts that don’t hurt. Naruto is inevitable; letting him in hadn’t been much of a choice.

With Sakura, Naruto can laugh and kiss and play. With Sai, with Shikamaru, with Kiba and everyone else, too, probably. They can have the light and effortless joy.

With him, though.

“I think there’s too much…just, too much, between us, for us to ever have ‘easy’.”

“Yeah, but.” Shikamaru looses a monumental amount of effort to roll onto one side, one elbow holding his balance as the other rests on Sasuke’s hip. He leans forward and Sasuke obligingly rests the butt of the cigarette against his lips, blinking stupidly.

This close Shikamaru has freckles, light things barely distinguishable from his skin. Likely the result of literal years of sleeping in the sun. Sasuke’s brain is fuzzy, thoughts stuck to the hand at his hip, the warmth radiating from the body next to him. Every place they’re touching.

Every chapped bit of pink skin of Shikamaru’s mouth.

He almost misses Shikamaru’s next words, half a sigh as he pulls back from Sasuke’s hand.

“Does the greatest love story of our generation really need ‘easy’?”

Humor in brown eyes, the slant of eyebrows, the quirk of pink lips. The way smoke clings to the words as they dance in Sasuke’s face.

“What,” His voice cracks. “Think you can get rid of me that easily?”

He thinks about the way the loose shirt falls over Shikamaru’s shoulders, the fabric riding up his sides. The way sweat slides down his forearms, so rare for the lazy man. He thinks about sliding that pale cock into his mouth.

Unexpected, Shikamaru snorts. Surely he can hear the pound of Sasuke’s pulse, from this close. He leans in and his breath is warm, his body is warm; it manages to touch Sasuke in a sneaky, underhanded way, indirect in the way Shikamaru does everything.

He wants that—wants ‘uncomplicated’, the hours in the sun. Wants sliding limbs in the dark, and easy comfort in the light slanting through an apartment window. He wants.

Soft lips brush against his, tasting like smoke.

“Nothing about you is easy.”

Sasuke laughs against his mouth, lets the cigarette fall in favor of sliding the hand around Shikamaru’s nape, pull himself closer across the grass.

“I _guess_ you’re worth dealing with Sai.” He concedes, and strangles shyness to lean forward, bold and wanting.

Shikamaru snorts again, and they both laugh, and then they’re pressed flush and rolling in the grass like fresh genin. And then there’s hard hands and sure lips and they’re really _not_ like genin at _all_ , so much skin that Sasuke loses himself in emotions and shivering, overwhelming sensation.

 _Yeah_ , Sasuke thinks.

He might be polyamorous, too.

 


End file.
